


hey!

by psychamoanix (psychamonix)



Series: reasons i'm going to hell [4]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Dirty Talk, Feelings, Foot Jobs, Hair-pulling, M/M, One Shot Collection, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Smut, Under-Desk Blow Jobs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:35:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28319805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychamonix/pseuds/psychamoanix
Summary: It was Karl’s idea, truly. He’d opened the door, taken one look at Dream snuggled up peacefully in his blanket, and turned to grin mischievously at Sapnap over his shoulder. “What if you…?” He’d said, trailing off.Which is how a cup full of cold water happened to splash directly into Dream’s face.---Sapnap is a bad friend, Dream wants revenge, and George is reluctantly involved.(+ tangentially related Dream/Techno short)
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: reasons i'm going to hell [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2005174
Comments: 10
Kudos: 302





	hey!

**Author's Note:**

> happy holidays! 
> 
> the premise/context of this short little series is included in the first chapter, up until Sap enters George's room. the second chapter continues from there with a few key changes I'll note when it's posted. the third is just a short little dream/techno thing I got distracted with while I was writing the second chapter. 
> 
> hope you enjoy :)

In his defense, Sapnap never expected Dream to get this mad. It was just a prank, a little one-off joke, something to amuse him now that finals were over. 

He’d walked back from class with Karl, encased in a mutual silence that was half relieved the semester was over and half absolutely fucking distraught - he _swears_ the professor never even mentioned half of the stuff on that exam - shivering slightly against the turning chill in the air. They’d gone up to Sapnap and Dream’s room together, hoping to commiserate with the other boy, who’d finished his last final the day before and was still shaking off the drowsy, dead-to-the-world aftereffects of too many all-nighters and too much caffeine. 

It was Karl’s idea, truly. He’d opened the door, taken one look at Dream snuggled up peacefully in his blanket, and turned to grin mischievously at Sapnap over his shoulder. “What if you…?” He’d said, trailing off. 

Which is how a cup full of cold water happened to splash directly into Dream’s face. 

Sapnap was halfway through laughing, bent over with his hands on his knees and the cup dribbling the last water droplets onto the floor, Karl rapid-fire giggling beside him, when Dream stopped spluttering and rolled out of bed with murder in his eyes. 

And now Sapnap’s running down the dorm hallway, still wheezing on a laugh, dodging exhausted students as he goes. 

“Sapnap!” Dream shouts, and he can hear the genuine annoyance in his voice. “I’m going to kill you, get back here!” 

“Sorry not sorry!” Sap yells back. “Don’t be an idiot next time!” 

“ _Come on_ , what do you mean, I was sleeping!” 

Sapnap skids around a corner, nearly knocking a pile of textbooks and papers from a girl’s hands. “Sorry!” He yelps, rebounding off the wall without slowing his pace. If he hurries, he might be able to-

No time to think. He hits the stairway door at a run, thanking God that there’s no one on the other side, and thunders down a floor, rushing through the level’s door into its hallway. Before he dashes further, he catches sight of a familiar door, the sign taped on it reading ‘George and Quackity,’ and takes the gamble, grabbing the handle and squeezing himself through quickly. 

Thankfully, only George is in. He’s sitting at his desk facing the door with his head propped on one hand and his eyes halfway shut, though he startles back into awakeness when Sapnap barges in. The bags under his eyes are thick and dark, and Sapnap spares a second to worry about his well being before he hears the stairway door crash open once more and panic overtakes his brain. 

“Hide me!” He yelps, scurrying further into the room and glancing frantically around George’s sleeping area. 

“Wha-” George starts to say, before Sap chooses the first thing that comes to mind and dives underneath his desk, crunching himself awkwardly around George’s legs. It’s a tight fit down there; the desk is sturdy and well-built, with real wood enclosing three sides of the underneath. It’s the kind of desk that’s perfect for hide-and-seek. Which is...actually not too far from what’s happening now. 

He squeezes his eyes shut as the door to George’s room squeaks on its hinges, and Dream enters. 

“George,” Dream says, voice dark with something close to anger and rough with the exertion of running. “Have you seen Sapnap?” 

Wincing, Sapnap presses further into the back panel. He’s sitting on his feet, knees touching the legs of George’s chair, body compressed to fit between the splay of George’s legs. It’s uncomfortable, to say the least, and his whole body aches to move and stretch. He prays that Dream leaves quickly. 

“Um…” George says, confusion in his voice. “Why?” 

“It doesn’t matter; have you seen him?” 

“Why is your hair wet?” 

Dream blows out an exasperated breath. “Just- come on, do you know where he is?”

George is silent for a moment. Sapnap crosses his fingers, biting his lip hopefully. 

“No.” George says eventually, clearing his throat faux-casually. “I don’t.” 

Sapnap hears the skepticism in Dream’s voice when he replies. “Why did it take that long for you to reply?” 

There’s a creaking sound like a door opening, then George says sharply, “He’s not in my closet, Dream. Get out.” 

“Just checking, just checking.” Restless footsteps growing louder. Sapnap’s heart drops. Dream isn’t leaving.

“He’s not under my bed either, Dream, and those are the only two places he’d fit.” George says, with an almost-believable finality to his words. 

“So I can check, then?”

“What?”

“If he’s not there, I can check?” 

“Why do you want him so badly?” George asks, a hint of annoyance coloring his voice. “What the hell did he do to you?” 

“Something very bad.” Dream says darkly.

“You’re so _dramatic_ , literally just tell me and I’ll let you look.” 

“No! He wronged me and I shouldn’t have to defend myself about it!” 

“You are an actual child. Oh my god.” 

Sapnap tunes out their bickering, shifting uncomfortably on his knees. His joints ache from the cramped position and he leans forward slightly, accidentally unbalancing and slipping. Unable to catch himself, he knocks his shoulder against the desk, the impact producing a slight thumping noise. 

The conversation above him stops. 

“What was that?” Dream says, suspicious. 

“What was what?” George replies, nervously adjusting himself in the chair. One of his hands falls to his thigh, gesturing in a ‘ _what the fuck_ ’ kind of way at Sapnap, who stares at it, frozen.

“That noise. He _is_ here, isn’t he?” Sapnap hears the footsteps start again, this time getting louder. 

George clears his throat, scooting his chair closer to the desk at the same time, as if to block Dream’s vision with his own body. Sapnap finds himself just inches away from George’s lap, the hand that was once on his thigh lifting to rest on Sap’s head, apparently to keep him from making any more noises. 

Face heating, Sapnap tries very, very hard to focus on Dream’s anger and categorically does not think about what else could be happening right now. 

“No,” George says again. “He’s not here. I kicked the desk by accident.” 

The footsteps stop near George’s bed, and Sapnap hears a shuffling of blankets, catches half a glimpse of Dream around George’s torso before he scoots in further. 

Dream makes a humming noise of disapproval when he finds no Sapnap in or under the bed. 

George scoffs, the hand on Sapnap’s head relaxing. “Did you really think _I_ would hide him if he was in trouble?” 

“I guess not.” Dream says, seemingly confused. “I could have _sworn_ I saw him go in here, but…” 

“I mean, there’s nowhere else he could be. Those are pretty much the only two places to hide in here.” 

Dream laughs, mischief in the sound. “He could be under your desk, George.”

Sapnap’s heart skips a beat, then another as George’s fingers tighten in his hair, pulling the strands. He barely contains his gasp, pressing his fingernails painfully into his own palms as George yanks his head slightly to the side, pulling his neck at an awkward angle. 

Arousal pools stubbornly in Sapnap’s stomach, and his brain can’t stop conjuring what it would feel like, being under George’s desk in the way Dream means. Sucking him off, fast or slow, taking it at whatever pace George wants, urged on by the hands clenched tight in his hair, forcing him to take what he gets. 

Listening to George talking on calls, with friends or for class, and just sitting there, hidden under the desk with his head propped up on George’s thigh, testing both of their patience. Breathing slow breaths over a hardening erection, biting at his thighs; finally, _finally_ , taking George’s cock into his mouth, when his control eventually snaps. 

The clattering sound of a falling pencil jerks Sapnap back to reality, the fantasy fading into the background. Dream laughs again, his footsteps finally receding back towards the door. 

“Don’t throw things at me, George, I’m only joking.” The click of the door handle follows his words. “Seriously, though. You need to figure that out.” 

George’s spluttering accompanies the sound of the door closing. 

Sapnap lets out a huge breath, sagging as best he can against the back of the desk area. Still in his hair, the grip of George’s fingers loosens, though he doesn’t withdraw the hand. They wait out another beat of silence, Sapnap biting his cheek with strangely potent nerves. 

“George?” He asks eventually, poking at his friend’s calf. 

George scoots his chair back, giving Sapnap the most unimpressed look he thinks he’s ever seen on anyone. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” Sapnap whines, rolling his eyes. “Dream’s being so overdramatic, I swear it wasn’t even-” 

With no warning, George’s hand tightens again and Sapnap cuts himself off, mouth hanging open slightly as he shudders his way through an exhale. He closes his eyes, breathing out shakily, before locking eyes with George again in horror, knowing there’s no way he didn’t notice the reaction. 

Strangely, George doesn’t look fazed at all. Sapnap almost thinks he didn’t realize, relief blossoming in his chest, but then the fingers tighten, pulling his neck into an even sharper angle. 

George speaks again, slowly. His voice is stern and flat, his face expressionless. “I’ll ask again. What did you do?”

Sapnap blinks up at him, lips parting, mind whirring with confusion at the sudden switch in tone, from someone recognizable to this strange, serious version of his friend. 

Left without a response, George continues. “Did you do anything at all, or was this just a ploy to get you on your knees in front of me, hidden away under my desk? If you wanted this, you could have just asked, Sapnap.” 

The words dig into Sapnap’s skin, bright and fever-hot, but he responds antagonistically. Instinctively. “I don’t-” 

“Really?” George says, a hint of a smirk tugging the corner of his mouth. 

Sapnap swallows thickly, feeling a blush rising onto his face. “George, move, let me up.” 

The same blank look, now more amused than before. If he really searches, Sapnap can see the bratty, argumentative George underneath it, but only barely. It’s hidden well, in an almost practiced way. 

“No,” George says slowly. “I don’t think I will.” 

“What?” Sapnap’s heart is beating faster, throwing itself over and over against the inside of his chest. 

With almost exaggerated indifference, George leans back in his chair, the backrest creaking in protest. One of his sock-clad feet slides to the inside of Sapnap’s thigh, casually resting against the clothed skin. “I think,” he says delicately, each word carefully weighed, “that you owe me one, Sapnap. And I’d like to cash it in now, if that’s okay.” 

“O-kay?” _What is that supposed to mean?_

“You see, Sap,” George continues. “I couldn’t help but notice that you seemed a little, ah, _excited_ when I pulled your hair earlier.”

Sapnap flushes abruptly. _Shit_. “I-uh-” He stutters. “It’s not you, dude, it’s just, I don’t know...like, suggestion or something. From being, you know.” He gestures to himself: on his knees in front of George, huddled down to fit under the desk, head forced to tilt forward slightly, close to George’s lap. 

“Mm.” George looks him straight in the eyes, and Sapnap feels a sudden surge of foreboding. “Do you spend a lot of time on your knees, Sapnap?” 

Caught off guard, he can’t do much more than open and close his mouth, gaping. His heart races in his chest, and he can feel blood rushing to his face. George smirks, as if enjoying the sight. 

“Just an observation,” he murmurs. “You look pretty comfortable down there at my feet. Right, Sapnap?” 

He can’t breathe. “George, I don’t-” 

All of a sudden, George’s face is mere inches away from his, fixed and intense in a way Sapnap’s rarely ever seen- only in the heat of a competition, when George forgets to monitor his demeanor and loses his composure in favor of strict emotion. 

“Tell me to stop,” George whispers, breath ghosting over Sapnap’s nose. “And I will.” 

Swallowing, Sapnap gathers the courage to shake his head, fire sparking at the base of his stomach. He can feel himself hardening, spurred on by the harshly suggestive words. A quiet thrill hums within him. “I want it. Please, George.” 

He can’t help it. He’s already pleading. 

A beat of silence as George takes in the words, then- “Tell me if anything changes.”

Then George’s breath is disappearing from his skin, and the foot resting against his knee is suddenly pressed to his crotch. Sapnap’s hips jerk up automatically, a quiet moan escaping him at how _good_ the pressure feels. 

“That’s what I thought,” George says, soft but still audible. The realization that they’re in a dorm- that anyone could hear, _anyone_ , and that Quackity will return at some point- hits Sapnap all at once, and he bites hard on the inside of his cheek as he rolls his hips upward again. “You _do_ want this, don’t you?” 

Gasping, Sapnap lets his head fall against the back of the desk with a thud, grinding up into George’s foot. He’s never been into this kind of thing- foot stuff has always been more of a joke than an actual interest- but there’s something about the casual power George holds over him that makes it even hotter. Kneeling for him, being given nothing more than a surface to rut against- it does something to Sapnap, turns his nerves to liquid fire, until he feels like he could burst into flames with nothing more than a few more words. 

“Holy shit, dude,” he finally manages to stutter, once he’s gotten halfway used to the intensity of the feeling. “How are you- how do you know how to _do_ this stuff?” 

It’s some consolation, at least, that George takes a second to answer. His eyes are dark, pupils blown as he watches Sapnap. 

“I don’t know,” he says eventually, running a hand through Sapnap’s hair and pulling until his head no longer rests against the back panel. “I’ve done some things with- others- before, but most of the time it kind of just...happens.” 

“Well, you’ve got a fucking gift dude, Jesus Christ.” Sapnap pants, pushing his head further into George’s hand, vaguely hoping for another yank. But George doesn’t pull his hair. Instead, he drops his hand down to curl around Sap’s jaw, tilting his head up until they’re forced into eye contact once more. 

“Eyes on me,” George says, tapping Sapnap on the forehead with his other hand. “Don’t you want to show me what I do to you?” 

Sapnap can’t help but moan at that, eyes involuntarily closing before he wrenches them back open, desperately staring up at George. But even with that small act of disobedience, George doesn’t punish him. 

Flustered, Sapnap opens his mouth to ask, licking over his bottom lip with nerves. “You can...you can be a little meaner. I- I like it when you-” He can’t finish the sentence. 

“When I do what, Sap?” George asks, leaning down. The hand on Sapnap’s chin tightens, pulling his face up at the same time George’s foot presses down. Sapnap can’t respond, too lost in the dual sensations, sparks of electricity dancing through his stomach and crackling along his limbs. 

George clicks his tongue, faking disappointment. “When I do...this?” He says, releasing Sapnap’s jaw to curl his fingers back into his hair, pulling viciously to the side until Sapnap’s neck aches. 

Moaning helplessly, Sapnap tries to nod, but can’t with the way George is holding his head. Instead, it just increases the sting, and he can’t help the small tears that spring up in the corners of his eyes, not bothering to blink them away. 

“Fuck,” George breathes, staring down at him. “Sapnap, I- are you alright with blowjobs?” 

“Yeah, are you serious?” His heart nearly skips a beat, and he thrusts up into George’s foot once more, reveling in the look on George’s face. “S’what I thought you were gonna make me do the first time.”

George doesn’t spare time for a witty response, quickly releasing Sapnap to unbuckle his trousers and slip them down, pooling on the floor. At the same time, his foot slips from its position and Sapnap whines at the loss, reaching down with one of his own hands to palm at the almost painful erection still contained in his pants. 

“Don’t,” George says sharply, kicking Sap’s hand away from his bulge. 

“Georgie, aren’t you gonna-” 

“I’ll get you off when I get to it, brat. Be patient or I’ll have to get a belt to tie you up.” 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Sap groans, barely able to speak through the sudden jolt of pleasure, his hands shaking as he clasps them behind his back, forcing himself not to disobey. 

Luckily, George gets his pants down quickly, pulling himself out while already guiding Sapnap towards it. He’s about average length, at least based on Sap’s own moderate experience, and decently thick. It’s not the kind of dick that Sapnap would struggle to manage, just one that he can have some fun with. 

The first lick is tentative, just a slow circle around the head. Sap keeps his eyes up, locked on George’s face, and thus sees the shiver that goes through him at the contact. Teasingly, he takes just the head into his mouth, sucking carefully - not too hard, not too weak. 

“Hurry up,” George mutters, hands clenching in his hair as if to warn him. 

Sapnap...has never been one for following commands. 

Instead, he flattens his tongue against the slit, pulling the rest of his mouth off completely to see the way George’s cock glistens in the light that reaches under the desk. He bites carefully at the skin over George’s hipbone. He kisses his stomach almost chastely. 

George _growls_ , tightening his hands in Sapnap’s hair until he cries out softly with pain, yanking his head back towards his cock. “Suck,” he says, voice short and brusque, and this time Sapnap can’t help but listen. 

He wraps his lips around George’s dick, not expecting the thrust when it comes, forcing more than half the length into his mouth. And even though Sapnap’s got experience (at house parties, in high school, even once [memorably] among the trees in a park) that quick change- from nothing to a cock touching the back of his throat - makes it feel new. 

George thrusts in again, more gently this time, like he thinks he’s been too rough. Blinking tears from his eyes, Sapnap forces himself even further, fighting the hands in his hair to swallow George down, until his nose presses the dark coiled hair at the base and he’s choking at the strain. It’s as if something snaps- whatever restraint George had is gone, lost in the furious rhythm he sets; in and out and in again, barely pausing to let Sapnap breath. 

It’s a facefucking like nothing Sap’s ever had before- euphoric and hot and _perfect_ in every way- but there’s something deeper to it, something that makes bright petals of genuine happiness bloom in Sapnap’s chest, even in this pure animalistic moment when his base desires are being fulfilled. 

And they _are_ being fulfilled, even though George isn’t touching him. He can feel himself getting close, the pressure in his stomach winding tighter and tighter, building like water behind a ramshackle dam. 

George grunts above him, thrusting in once, twice, until he pushes himself forward one more time and he’s coming straight down Sapnap’s throat. Sap swallows around him, trying his best to breathe through his nose, twisting his fingers together behind his back until it _hurts_ , until the pain and the pleasure bind up into one and he can’t breathe at all, even when George pulls out and the last spurts of cum land haphazardly across his lips. 

Before he can even ask, George’s foot is back, pressing down, and Sapnap cums in his pants with a shaky moan, biting his lip to avoid groaning George’s name, mind whiting out with pleasure. 

Afterwards, they sit in a tentative silence. Sapnap props his head against George’s bare thigh, staring blankly out at the room, hoping beyond hope that George speaks first, that this thing, whatever they’ve just done, won’t be ruined by what comes next. 

But it’s not either of them that interrupts the silence. 

It’s the door thudding open, accompanied by a yell. 

“GEORGE!” Quackity says. Sapnap can practically see him bouncing into the room, yanking his beanie further over his hair. “You’re not asleep! This is unusual!” 

“Q,” George says tightly, his voice thin with tension. Underneath the desk, Sapnap shifts, lifting a hand to wipe at his mouth in case Quackity somehow finds him. “This is a bad time. Please go away.” 

“Why? What’s, uh- What are you doing?” Sapnap can hear rustling from Quackity's side of the room, like he’s rummaging through his drawers. “I was just getting something for Schlatt, anyway, but now I’m curious. What’s up?” 

Sapnap winces at how obviously relieved George’s sigh sounds. “Nothing, just- I’ve been studying for literal hours, I need quiet.” 

“Oh yeah?” Quackity says, and Sapnap tenses. It’s his ‘ _I am about to cause trouble at everyone else’s expense_ ’ voice. Nothing good ever comes from Quackity talking in that voice. “Is that why your pants are down and your face is super red?” 

Quackity’s laugh almost covers George’s stuttering. Sapnap stays very, very still. 

“No worries, man, I’m outta here anyway. See you tonight; please, please don’t be asleep like you were the last two nights we tried to play.” His footsteps tap away. The door creaks open, and Quackity pauses just long enough to cheekily call, “Have fun!” before it slams shut. 

There’s another moment of silence before George sighs, scooting his chair back and standing. “I really do need to study.” 

Crawling out, Sapnap offers him an apologetic grin. “Sorry?” 

“You should be.” George says, shuffling over to his closet to change pants. “You and Dream are absolute idiots.” 

“It was Karl’s idea, actually,” Sapnap says, hoisting himself up to sit on the bed. “He’s a worse influence than we are.” 

George sends him a sideways glance, begrudgingly amused. “Somehow I doubt that.” 

“Why? I am so incredibly responsible.” He says, swinging his legs slightly. “You’re being hurtful, Georgie.” 

The second glance is less amused. “You gave me a blowjob just because I pulled your hair a little too hard. Forgive me for not trusting your decisions.” 

“Well.” Sapnap says, heart skipping a little in his chest, “it wasn’t _just_ because you pulled my hair.” 

Somehow, George looks even more disgruntled at that. “Fine, the dirty talk too, then.” 

Tilting his head, Sapnap hops off the bed, taking the few steps required to bridge the gap between them. “George. Do you really think I would’ve done that with you just because you said a few words and pulled my hair? Do you think I’m that kind of guy?” 

“You have been with other people,” George mutters, avoiding his eyes. 

“Yeah, but- they’re _other people_ ,” Sapnap says, unsure how he’s missing it. “I wouldn’t- I wouldn’t do that to _you_.” 

Finally, George looks at him. His eyes are shuttered, guarded. “Don’t say things you don’t mean, Sapnap. This doesn’t change anything.” 

“It does for me,” Sapnap whispers, ducking closer. “I know it does for you, too, George, you can’t lie to me.” 

He knows so. George isn’t one for casual hookups, for making out with strangers at parties and leaving for a sloppy handjob in the bathroom. Sapnap’s never even seen George kiss anyone anywhere other than the cheek before; he’s the designated driver (after Bad), the one who rounds everyone up and herds them home, the one who shoots down attempt after attempt by strangers, though he gets more than any of them. 

“It’s not a lie,” George says, and Sapnap can finally see the fear behind it. He doesn’t want it to mean anything, because he doesn’t want anything to change. But it already has. Sapnap can’t pretend, and neither should George. 

“It is.” Sapnap whispers. “But it’s okay. I’ll talk to you later.” 

With the last of his courage, he ducks in to kiss George’s cheek, just a simple press of lips before he’s gone, practically dashing out of the door and hurrying his way back to the room. 

Dream might be bad, but confronting George’s emotions is definitely worse.

**Author's Note:**

> surprise quackity and feels at the end there, sorry y'all
> 
> this short is a lil underwhelming bc i've been having writer's block for a bit, but i hope it was fun anyway! the next two oneshots should hopefully be out soon since i've been trying to force myself to write. 
> 
> thank you for reading and feel free to stick around or check out previous works! there will, as always, be more.


End file.
